by RJ Scott
“Stay calm.” Jack gripped his hand. For all his talk of needing a drink he’d nursed the whiskey and only taken a few sips.
“Your table is ready Mr. Campbell-Hayes, and your guests are here.” The manager looked pointedly at Josiah and his wife posturing around at the entrance. “We took the liberty of placing you in the blue room where you can be assured of privacy.” How the manager kept a straight face as he explained that, Riley didn’t know, but he caught the twitch of a smile on Jack’s face. Probably more like keeping the Harrolds away from the guests who wanted a quiet meal. This restaurant was a series of small spaces, and he and Jack had eaten in the blue room before, with its own staff, and special menus, then there was this larger area with a bar. Everyone was watching Josiah cross over to them. Sometimes he stopped and shook hands with someone he knew, making sure everyone saw just how connected he was. Finally, he reached Riley and Jack, Dilys trailing him in a cloud of perfume and her face stretched from what appeared to be more plastic surgery, laughing at something Josiah had said. Loudly, like braying. Riley had the uncharitable thought that if her skin was any more stretched it might split, so maybe she shouldn’t laugh at all.
Riley held out a hand. “Josiah.”
“Hayes,” Josiah said. And there it was, the first slap down of the night.
“Campbell-Hayes,” Jack said smoothly and shook Josiah’s hand firmly. Possibly a little too firmly, but Riley wasn’t going to argue. Riley greeted Dilys with two air kisses, which Jack copied, and then the manager led them to the blue room. He noticed that Dilys already had her hand on Jack’s arm. She did that a lot, it was her job, to be the wife who flirted and cajoled and generally looked good. Jack may well have described himself as the trophy wife, but there was nothing false about Jack.
Seated, Josiah ordered an obscenely expensive wine, without consulting anyone. “And a steak, the largest you have, bloody,” he added to the waiter who nodded without comment.
It seemed like they were actually ordering.
“I’ll have a salad, no dressing,” Dilys said, and patted Jack’s hand, “we have to look after our figures, right Jack?”
Jack smiled. Or rather, he grimaced and forced his lips to curve upward “Steak,” he said to the waiter, “rare.”
“I’ll have the same.” Riley reached for Jack’s hand under the table. They could do this. Together, holding hands, they could do anything.
They exchanged family news, but didn’t get much past the whole JJ is a wonderful son thing that Josiah had going on. All bluster and excitement, he talked about JJ’s upcoming wedding, his new dog, losing his license for an unfortunate DUI where he’d clearly been framed. Josiah and Dilys’ other kids were conveniently not spoken about. It used to be this way with Riley’s dad, or who he thought was his dad. Gerald Hayes had very little time for Riley, or for Eden, mostly focused on Jeff, the oldest. After the fact it became obvious why, given Riley wasn’t his son, and Eden was a girl. For both things they were punished with lack of affection or attention.
Jeff was the JJ of the Hayes family, something that Jack had picked up on when he’d first met Josiah.
The steaks arrived, Josiah drank the wine, Jack still had his whiskey, and Dilys sipped noisily at tonic water, poking at her salad as if there were calories hiding in the lettuce that might jump out and hit her. Jack at least enjoyed his dinner.
“Good steak,” he said.
Riley mumbled his agreement but every mouthful of his tasted like ash. He hated confrontations, where he’d used to thrive on them when he was younger. But, right now, he wished he was back at the D, with the kids, and Jack, and some box set with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“So,” Josiah sat back in his seat, holding the last glass full of wine and looking smug. “What did you want to talk about, Hayes?”
Riley could lie, he could say this was social, but everyone at this table knew it wasn’t. He hadn't finished his steak, just placed his cutlery on the plate and pushed it away.
“I had an interesting call on Monday from the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management, wanting to talk about a new project of mine.”
Josiah nodded, “Thought they might when there were two of us looking into the feasibility of that area. What did they say?” He didn’t look as if he cared. If anything, he still had a smug expression and Riley wouldn’t have put it past him to have sicced the federal government on BOEM to cause the issue. He knows, I can see it in his eyes.
“Nothing too bad,” Riley lied, “at least nothing we can’t handle. The hydropower project is gaining momentum. Our new report submitted today summarized the various potential alternative energy technologies available and screened out unlikely candidates, such as oil extraction in that area.”
“Screened out, what do you mean—?”
Riley carried on. “We reported on the general operating principles of each alternative energy technology considered, including reliance on oil, and the current development status of each. Of course, when we wrote the report we didn’t expect that Santone would be looking at the same tract of seabed for their oil extraction.”
If he hadn't been staring quite so intensely at Josiah’s face Riley may have missed the significant tightening of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes.
“Interesting,” Josiah said, without pause. “I was led to believe that despite the reports federal agencies are veering away from the recommendations of the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management.”
“Not at all, Josiah, I believe that BOEM has been able to smooth over any panic regarding funding and cost against benefit,” Riley said, with a nod that underscored his commitment. “I invested some time in explaining our long-term aims and sustainability, and all federal agencies were reassured.”
Josiah’s lips thinned again and his smile looked more stretched than Dilys’. “There’s nothing that says there isn’t the option of two alternative uses of the land and water.” Josiah placed his wine on the table. He sat forward, his posture stiff, “if you think I am going to sit here and listen to your new age nonsense then you are sadly mistaken, Hayes.”
“Not at all,” Riley said, and loved that Jack squeezed his hand. “There is room for all kinds of energy extraction, I just think that the extensive research undertaken by CH consulting has proved that hydropower is an effective use of existing tides and land reach, and that stripping the parcels of land there for oil is counterintuitive. Of course, that was only enhanced with the new information we have. Regardless, I’m sure your own research came across the same issues.” He said the last innocently, even though he was convinced that somehow Santone Corp had their hands on CH intelligence and reports and had done nothing at all on their own initiative. That was part two on this devious list of his.
Josiah stood from the table, not dramatically but forceful enough to send the chair back a little. “We’re leaving, Dilys.”
Dilys looked up at her husband and seemed about to say something, probably that she hadn't finished her salad, which vanished instantly. She stood as well, as did Jack and Riley. Never let it be said they lost their Texas good manners in the face of an asshole like Josiah. His idiocy wasn’t her fault. Still, they didn’t really get to say goodbye in any sense of the word, and were left with an empty room and the check.
“Tell me again how was this a useful way to spend a Thursday evening,” Jack deadpanned.
“With any luck Josiah will do two things. One, he’ll try and bribe the committee for the work, and they will run him out of town, and two, he’ll contact the person who is feeding him information from CH, and give us an idea of who it is.”
Jack leaned toward Riley, carding his fingers through Riley’s hair. “I love your devious mind.” He kissed him briefly and then leaned back in his chair. “I guess we could order dessert now?”
“Or,” Riley began carefully, softly into Jack’s ear for only him to hear. “We could go home, find some dessert in the fridge and I could lick it off your cock?”
Jack stood
so fast that his chair hit the wall yanking Riley up with him. “Home,” he growled. “Now.”
And Riley wasn’t going to argue with that order.
Not at all.
Chapter 16
Riley drove home, and for that Jack was relieved, not because he’d drunk the whiskey, which he clearly hadn't, but because he couldn’t think much past the words dessert, cock, and Riley.
So his smaller brain was in control of everything, including a need for Riley to drive faster.
“Does this heap not go any faster?” he groused, when they were still a few miles away from the D. Jack’s cock refused to soften, even when he thought about things like his great aunt Lulu who, he recalled, wore a lot of violet and smelled of cigarettes. Nope, not even that image erased the one he had in his head of Riley on his knees sucking him off.
“You want me to get pulled over for speeding?” Riley chuckled.
The fucker.
“You could do some more,” Jack almost whined, and that was not a sexy sound, particularly when Riley laughed. Out loud.
He was so going to pay for that, the bastard.
They made it home to a quiet house, the kids in bed and Carol in her apartment. Everything had been locked up, there was nothing they needed to do, and Jack went straight to the fridge, pulling out cream and a squeezy bottle of strawberry sauce, courtesy of Connor who lived for the red stuff on every dessert he ate.
Then, when Riley had checked they were all locked in, Jack dragged him into the bedroom and shut the door, locking it so that, hell, no one was getting in here.
“You have to be quiet,” Jack said. “Clothes off.”
Riley quirked a smile. “I thought I was the one doing this.”
Jack placed the sauce and cream on the side table with deliberate care. “Clothes. Off.”
Riley did as he was told, but too freaking slowly, removing each item and hanging his suit up, ensuring the jacket sat well, and there were no wrinkles. Meanwhile Jack shoved off his suit and laid it on the back of the chair, and then waited, fisting his cock as he watched his husband strip.
There was a lot of deliberate bending over from Riley and a few coy smiles, and oh yeah, the sin bank was collecting a lot of debt there.
Maybe they should have taken this to the barn. At least in there any noise Riley made would be lost in the dark night, muffled by the insulation that Jack himself had installed. No, there was no way they were leaving this room now, Riley would have to do as he was told. Just the thought of that had Jack coming close to rubbing one out over Riley taking his clothes off. Such was the power of six four of sexy as sin Riley.
Finally, he was naked, and for a few seconds Jack stared at him, then he nodded toward the bed. Riley climbed on and sat in the middle, one hand around the other wrist. Jack had seen that unconscious touch before, and knew what it meant even if Riley didn’t. That was what he wanted, to be tied down, to be held and for Jack to do anything he wanted.
Jack could get with that program, and he pulled the soft rope out of the locked drawer that held all kinds of interesting things. They’d used ties before for this kind of play, but after the years they’d been together, the right kind of fastening was enough to make everything easy.
Riley’s eyes widened, but he knew better than to say anything. In one smooth move, he lay back on the bed, stretching his arms above him and widening his legs. He would stay like that if Jack wanted him to, his concentration levels were intense when they were making love, but Jack didn’t want Riley to have to think tonight. A deft knot, and one of Riley’s hands was tied to the bed, another, and his other hand was fixed in place. For a few moments, Jack considered the ankle issue. Tied down, Riley wouldn’t be able to move at all or wrap his legs around Jack if they fucked, but he could always untie them. Right?
Two more ties and Riley was still, looking up at Jack, his lips parted and tension seeping out of him.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Jack whispered, straddling Riley and placing a hand on either side of Riley’s head. “You thinking about not moving huh?”
“Yeah,” Riley murmured back.
“No sound. Okay?”
Riley nodded and then wriggled, his hard cock brushing against Jack’s. He stilled immediately, but not quick enough that Jack didn’t add that minor transgression as an extra five minutes of edging.
Jack moved back a little, resting back on Riley’s thighs, and then focused on Riley’s nipples; at first tracing them, rolling them, and then becoming more insistent, tugging until they were hard, before reaching for the cream, trickling a small path around one nipple. He caught it with his tongue as it slid down Riley’s side, and he sucked hard on the small nub, enjoying the taste of the cream and the skin, and hearing the muffled groan as Riley arched into the touch before catching himself.
“Stop thinking about moving.” Jack stopped sucking, pressing his hands onto Riley’s chest. “Or do I need to tie you across here?
Riley sank into the bed, out of it as Jack concentrated on his nipples, every so often tipping some cream, trickling it down his chest into his navel. Riley was fit, even with some softness from being behind a desk his muscles were defined, just not a six-pack. Still, the cream collected, and licking it away then sucking and nipping at the skin was getting Riley worked up. He was trying his hardest not to move, and Jack wanted him to give in, to stop thinking, that was when he knew Riley was compliant without a head full of worries.
He nipped at the hip bones, his chin bumping Riley’s cock on each pass. Each time Riley moaned soft and low and then, blessedly, he began to move. He pressed up against any part of Jack he could get to, attempting to find friction, and getting nothing. Jack dripped cold cream on his cock, watching it slip down and under, onto Riley’s balls, following the track of it with his tongue before he closed his mouth over the tip and tugged. Riley moaned again, and Jack recognized the sound. Riley was close just from this.
And Jack did what he wanted there, he backed off and saw the change in Riley’s expression from lust to frustration. But he didn’t say one single word. Jack waited a moment and then began again, this time with the sauce and the cream, licking and sucking and tasting every inch of Riley, he used his mouth and his hands and brought Riley to the edge a few more times, until there was no hesitation in Riley’s movements; he was past thinking.
He slicked his fingers, crooked them inside Riley just to the right point, and swallowed Riley’s cock until it hit the back of his throat. He held still for a moment and then set a rhythm, sucking hard as he pressed against Riley.
Riley didn’t know where to push, up into Jack’s mouth or down, and he was moaning, but it was from somewhere deep inside him, he had no control of anything.
When he came his moan was louder, but nothing that anyone outside of the room would hear. Jack swallowed it all, and then got himself off as Riley twisted on the bed.
He wiped as much away as he could of the sticky sauce residue, untied Riley, and rubbed his wrists, checking if they were marked. Nothing. Riley was like soft toffee, a melted puddle in the bed, boneless and half asleep. Jack padded over to the door and unlocked it; they never locked their door when they were in bed in case the kids needed them. Then he eased boxers onto Riley and himself, just in case, pulled a blanket up over them and slept.
Riley had needed that, hell, Jack had needed that.
And he had to remember to replace the strawberry sauce, which he promptly forgot in sleep.
Which wasn’t good when at dinner the next day, with a bowl of ice cream on the table, Connor opened the fridge door and then shut it with a moody push.
“Hey, where’s my strawberry sauce!”
Chapter 17
John McMillan was a big man, taller than Riley, and when Riley had first met him, he’d had an immediate reaction of disbelief that John could be capable of deception as a PI because he stood out too damn much. Six-foot-six and built like a brick shithouse, he filled the sofa in Riley’s office, and there wasn
’t much room left for anyone else. Tattoos wrapped his arm, and he had this menacing way of just sitting. But when he put on a suit and tie and hid the tattoos, he somehow morphed into this gentle giant that people opened up to.
At the moment he was impassive, the information folder laying on the table between him and Riley.
“What do you want to do with it?” he asked.
“What are the options?”
John stared at him steadily; his dark eyes had an absolute laser focus. “Cops, private talk, or vigilante justice.”
Riley stared at him and knew his mouth was open. Vigilante justice?
Then John grinned, and the menacing man became something very different. “I was joking about the vigilante thing.”
“Oh,” Riley began, not wanting to appear stupid in front of this guy who intimidated the hell out of him. “No, I knew that.”
“So yeah, we call the cops, or you can bring him in and talk to him.”
“It’s a ‘him’?”
John nudged the papers closer to him. “It’s all in there.”
Riley didn’t want to pick it up; didn’t want to know who was doing this to him, to CH. Was it one of the people who’d been here a while? Or one of the IT guys, or an intern working their way through college. Riley felt sick. He’d felt sick since he realized someone here was betraying CH, and him, because he was CH to the core, it was his baby.
“You want me to read it out?” John asked, and shuffled forward a bit, causing the sofa to creak.
“No.” Riley picked up the file, and held it steady and unopened. “I’ll do it,” he said, and then finally flicked to page one. There was a lot of information in here, profiles of his staff that he refused to read, but the main purpose of this, the person who was sharing information with Santone was in full detail on page one.